


A stranger week...

by OrangeTabby



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Explicit Language, F/M, Fluff and Humor, cat rescue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:20:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23096989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrangeTabby/pseuds/OrangeTabby
Summary: Sandor has no pets, and that’s how he likes it.Why in all the seven hells is this stray cat leaving junk on his doorstep?
Relationships: Sandor Clegane/Sansa Stark
Comments: 79
Kudos: 239





	A stranger week...

**Author's Note:**

> Just some fluffy fluff to brighten up your day 😊

**Day 1:**

The gecko was missing its tail, but appeared otherwise unharmed.

“Mrrp?” said the motley black cat sitting on his front doorstep with its paw holding the gecko still.

The cat was fluffy, but its fur spiked out in matted clumps and Sandor could see how thin it appeared under all the fluff. It was so dark that it looked like a furry void, with its piercing green eyes peering out at him.

“Who the fuck are you?” Sandor asked the cat.

The cat stared at him.

“Who are you talking to?” Sansa’s voice sounded from the direction of the kitchen. She was making cupcakes or some girly shit for someone’s birthday at her work. If he played his cards right, she might let him taste test some. She always made the best fucking cupcakes, with rainbow sprinkles and everything.

“There’s a cat here,” he raised his voice in reply.

“Well invite it in,” she called, “there is some leftover chicken in the fridge that it can have.”

Sandor frowned at the cat. “That’s my fucking chicken,” he said to it.

He never shared his chicken.

The cat meowed again, looking pointedly down at the unhappy gecko it held captive.

“I don’t want a fucking lizard,” he said to the cat. “What is this? Some kind of gift exchange? Where the fuck did you come from?”

The cat lifted its paw a fraction, enough for the gecko to scramble gratefully away. It looked studiously casual, bringing up the same paw to lick in between the toes. Its fur was so long that it grew in between the charcoal coloured pads of its feet.

He watched as it groomed for a few minutes, then stalked away without a second glance at him.

Sandor put some of his chicken out for the cat.

**Day 2:**

All he wanted to do was relax after a hard day’s work and watch TV with his beautiful fucking wife. He’d just sat down when loud squawking interrupted them.

“I should check on that,” Sandor said, twisting to look over the back of the couch and towards the front door.

Sansa scowled at him over the rim of her mug of tea. She still looked sexy as fuck when she was mad at him. Even when she wore pink flannel pajamas and wolf-themed fuzzy slippers. Which she was right now. Sexy as fuck.

“If you didn’t want to watch Dragonstone Abbey,” she said tartly, “you should have just told me.”

Sandor did, in fact, want to watch Dragonstone Abbey. He still needed to find out if Lady Marilda and Ser Matthos would get together.

He didn’t, however, say that.

“Aye, we should have watched World Westeros Wrestling,” he said instead, keeping his voice casual.

Sansa gave him that narrow-eyed stare that always made him suspect that she knew exactly what he was thinking.

The squawking had become indignant chirping and he paused the show before he got up to check. Sansa’s mindfuckingreading blue gaze following him as he scurried out of the room.

The light still appeared decent outside, even though it was mid evening. One thing he liked about living so far north was the long evenings.

The black cat was back on the doorstep, this time with a little bird trapped under its paw.

“You’d better let the bird live,” he said to the cat. “It’ll piss my wife off if you kill it.”

The cat looked at him and narrowed its eyes.

“I’m not kidding. If you want me to feed you, no corpses.”

The cat lifted its paw like it had done with the gecko. The bird fluttered to freedom in a flurry of feathers.

He bent down and gave the animal a pat. It chirped happily and leaned into his touch.

“You’d better not have any fucking fleas,” Sandor said.

The cat fucked off when he was in the kitchen carefully chopping up a bowl of cooked chicken for it. He still put its meal outside the door.

He noticed before he went to bed that all the chicken had been eaten.

**Day 3:**

He opened the door to go for his morning run and the cat was there with a huge leaf in its mouth.

“What the fuck am I going to do with a leaf?” Sandor said as he leaned against the doorway to regard the beast.

“Prrrp,” said the cat, muffled by the leaf it carried.

Sansa came down the townhouse stairs in her work clothes, hair done up all fancy. She walked with a clack of high heels. He didn’t know how she could walk in those things. They made her legs look fucking glorious though.

“Remember you’re making dinner tonight,” she said, as she grabbed her handbag and stood on tiptoes to give him a kiss goodbye. “I’ve got a late meeting.”

She squealed and giggled as he groped her lush arse as they kissed. He made a mental note to ask her to wear those high heels and clinging skirt next time they fucked. He wondered if the skirt would push up far enough. He looked forward to finding out.

Sandor and the cat watched her leave. The cat dropped the leaf as it stared after her, its tail twitching with excitement.

The leaf fluttered down the front steps, unheeded as they watched Sansa blow them both a kiss through the window of her car.

He understood the cat’s reaction entirely. It still baffled him that he had been lucky enough to marry such a wonderous woman.

Sandor hummed in thought.

He’d better make something for dinner with plenty of cat-appropriate leftovers.

**Day 4:**

“Well you’re not even fucking trying anymore,” said Sandor, looking at the fucked up old sock that the cat had carefully placed on the ground.

The cat gave him a long look, then turned its back on him and started vigorously grooming.

“I don’t want to fucking touch it,” he said. “Why the fuck did you have that thing in your mouth?”

The cat kept ignoring him.

“Fine. I made a roast chicken last night and saved you the thigh meat. It’s the best fucking part.”

Sansa always thought he was being nice by letting her have all the breast meat, but he was a committed leg and thigh man.

Well. With chicken at least.

The cat slurped as it cleaned between its toes.

“Shit,” said Sandor.

He sighed.

“Fine,” he said, looking around to make sure no humans could hear him. Luckily Sansa had disappeared off to her yoga class with that bint Margaery. “Thanks for the fucking sock.”

The cat shot him a satisfied expression, then changed position to clean its arse.

**Day 5:**

The pipe cleaner was fuzzy, purple and had sparkles amongst the fuzz.

“You better not have stolen that from some kid,” he said loudly so Sansa would hear as she walked past behind him, through the hallway and into the living room.

Sandor hoped the mangy cat had stolen it from some random kid. That was funny as fuck.

The cat made a loud noise, like a meow, but more like it was calling out. He. He was calling out. Sandor had caught a glimpse of some furry balls yesterday when the cat had groomed itself.

He should organise to get the cat fixed. Arya always spent their family dinners going on at him about the importance about getting animal’s balls chopped off to stop unwanted babies. Or was it their dicks? No, he was almost certain it was their balls.

He looked at the cat and winced.

“Sorry mate,” he said to the cat, a blanket apology for any future genital interference. He’d phone Arya about it tomorrow.

The cat dropped the pipe cleaner at his feet, looking smug.

“I bought you some cat food,” he said as the cat looked away. “It’s the expensive shit from the vets so you’d better fucking appreciate it.”

He prepared a bowl with the recommended amount of scientifically developed high quality gourmet cat food. He also plugged in the special cat water fountain he’d bought, into the outdoor plug. Apparently drinking flowing water was better for cats, some shit like that.

He sat on the step while the cat ate all the food, then fucked off to do whatever the fuck it did when it wasn’t bugging him.

**Day 6:**

The copy of _Westerosi Biologist Monthly_ appeared slightly battered but otherwise fine. By some bizarre coincidence it featured Sansa’s friend Theon on the cover, holding a large octopus and looking smarmy as ever, the prick.

He sighed and picked the magazine up, brushing a little dust off the cover as he did so.

“Thanks,” he said to the cat. “But where the fuck did you get this from?”

The cat regarded him unblinkingly.

“I’ll give it to my wife to read. She knew this cunt when they were kids together.” He waved the magazine at the cat.

The cat still looked at Sandor, like a fluffy mote of darkness that provided free magazines.

“I hope you didn’t steal it from the same people you stole the pipe cleaner and sock from. Spread the crimes around a bit.”

The beast turned and started to groom again. He struggled with his messed-up fur.

It was an ugly fucking beast.

Sandor felt a pang of kinship.

“I bought you some cat milk,” Sandor said. “But you can only have a small amount otherwise you’ll get the shits. Keep drinking plenty of water though.”

Sandor sat on the step again while the cat drank the special milk, then ate the gourmet fucking food. The cat seemed to be enjoying the fancy water fountain too, sticking his paw in and splashing about before he drank.

The cat stood still and let him brush out its fur with the detangling brush he’d been back to buy from the vets. He even let Sandor cut out the mats of fur with the grooming clippers he bought, before running off again.

**Day 7:**

The cat was back on the step, but without any gifts this time.

Sandor stood watching the cat for a fucking long time.

The cat observed him back, his eyes clear and green.

Sansa came up behind Sandor eventually, circling her arms around his waist and leaning against his back. “You’ll need to think of a name for him if he’s going to live with us,” she said gently.

Sandor sighed and held the door open wider. “Come on Stranger,” he said. “May as well make yourself at home. You can help me assemble the giant fucking cat tree I bought you.”

Stranger ignored the cat tree in favour of the box it came in. He slept in the box, in front of the heater, in his new home.


End file.
